Willing Complication 06: The Importance of Pulling
by moor
Summary: Willing Complication 06: The Importance of Pulling Out: A very short series of one-shots dealing with the importance of pulling out, and the consequences when you don't. For Seiran. And Kouyuu. And Shuurei. Oh dear...
1. Chapter 1

[Week 62] [Word Count: 250+] [Theme: Oops]

Title: The importance of pulling out

Author: beyondthemoor

Genre: humour

Word Count: approx. 300 words

Rating: T for misleading sexual connotations...

Characters: Seiran, Ensei

AU/Cannon: Cannon

Theme: Oops

Disclaimer: I do not own SaiMono.

AN: This was originally posted to the saiun_challenge LJ comm…. and I became too busy to finish the rest. I'm crossing my fingers now to finish Part III by… um… the end of the summer. XD

* * *

The night was quiet as the two men shared a private drink.

One drinking decidedly more than the other.

Ensei looked over at his long-time friend and laid a consoling arm around his shoulders, raising his tankard in support.

"Come on, Seiran. I'm sure 'jou-chan will forgive you…. someday!"

His mocking laughter rather contradicted his compassion.

The morose man's bucket-covered head rose an inch or so from the tabletop where it had rested for the better part of that evening; Ensei reached over and gently lifted the lip of the bucket up to peer at Seiran's downcast – and rather gray – face.

"I really don't think she'll mind," assured the scarred-faced man as he held the silver-haired man's gaze, more seriously this time, and gave Seiran a quick squeeze of support. "It isn't the first time – and if you're as lucky as in the past, no one will know and there'll be no consequences to worry about, either."

Seiran's bleary, though still faintly murderous, look settled on his friend's face, but only for a moment before his head thudded back to the table with a slurred,

"… she said… didn't hear her… not this time… so dead…"

Then his shoulders slumped and his soft snores echoed from inside the pail.

Resting his head on his fist as he regarded the former prince, renowned for his selflessness towards his foster-family, Ensei smiled softly and thought over the situation.

"You never know," he said more to himself than the passed-out man beside him, "she may not mind as much as she says…"

Because hadn't 'jou-chan always said she wanted to keep things the way they were? To stay with her father, Seiran by her side?

Ah, right. Shouka-sama.

Ensei sobered slightly.

"But you know, if you really need to run, make sure you don't come anywhere near me. I'll support you from a distance, though, my friend!"

And he raised his cup again.


	2. Chapter 2

[January 2010] [Word Count: Free!] [Theme: "It isn't what it looks like!"]

Title: The importance of pulling out, pt. 2

Author: beyondthemoor

Genre: humour

Word Count: approx. doesn't-matter-because-it's-a-free-count! :D

Rating: T for misleading sexual connotations...

Characters: Seiran, Ensei, Shuurei, Kouchou, Shuuei, Kouyuu

AU/Cannon: Cannon-ish

Theme: "It isn't what it looks like!"

AN: Many thank you's to Majochan for letting me borrow her visual plot-bunny. (Her SaiMono gallery is full of Way Too Much inspiration!)

* * *

Seiran tried to pretend he didn't feel his spine stiffen reactively with a latent self-preservation instinct whenever Master passed through the kitchen that evening.

And failed.

When he brought in some dried wood from the shed to keep by the stove and the bed-kangs, leaving a deposit beside Shuurei's in her room, he felt the hair on the back of his neck tingle in alarm.

And as he said goodnight to her on his way to his own room (she was still miffed and would have ignored him, but sighed and muttered a begrudging 'sleep well' back), he didn't fail to notice the way Master Shouka's eyes followed his every move, waiting to hear his door slide shut with a soft clack.

For the first time since he'd been taken into the Kou residence as their retainer, the young man felt concern for his well-being.

And it was all because he'd forgotten to pull out…

"… forgot to pull me out of that stupid competition at Kouchou-neesan's!" exclaimed Shuurei angrily.

"Which competition?" Kouyuu asked, about to take a bite of manjuu.

"The one she holds every year?" surmised Shuei, sneaking around behind the younger advisor and nipping a bite of the pastry from the other man's hands.

(Kouyuu blustered angrily and snatched it away, loudly cursing the sword-master who seemed to delight in teasing him. The dark-haired man only smirked in response.)

"Oy! What competition!"

"The Kougarou Idol competition," she sighed in resignation, drawing another bun from her bento to throw half-heartedly at Shuei to curtail the escalating antagonism. "It's open to all the employees, not just the, er, customer service representatives, so it is fair game. It's a talent show, and the winner's portrait is printed on all the promotional materials that circulate."

"It brings in a lot of business for that particular individual, and for the Kougarou as well," added Shuei, thinking aloud.

"And Seiran forgot to pull your name out of the running?"

Her baleful glare was all the answer Kouyuu needed.

"He's been looking a little under the weather lately, maybe he's had something else on his mind?"

"No, that's just because my father found out and isn't taking it well that his daughter could end up as the poster girl for the Red Light District."

Kouyuu and Shuei looked at each other knowingly over her head.

"… I'm sure it'll work itself out," assured Shuei, picking up another bun and gazing it over thoughtfully.

-until Kouyuu smacked it out of his hand and railed, "Stop looking at the manjuu like it's something naughty!"

"Jealous? Would you rather I looked at you? Pictured you dressed up for a night with Madam Kouchou?"

Shuurei sighed in resignation as Kouyuu went purple in his retaliatory ranting.

… but it did give the men something to think about…

That evening, Kouyuu met Seiran just inside a palace gate, and together they came up with a plan.

* * *

Kouchou looked the pair of stoic men over with a dispassionate eye.

"No."

Seiran persisted.

"It was my mistake, please excuse her."

"Please think of her reputation! If she has to force herself to play or behave badly in order to fail the competition, she'll never be hired again as a musician; if she plays well, she will win and never be hired again by a respectable employer-."

The powerful woman glared at Kouyuu meaningfully.

"… Er, another institution may find her… previous commitments… not a very fitting preparation… to her formal abilities…"

Painted lips pursed, elegant eyes narrowed.

Seiran resisted the urge to elbow the blundering administrator in the gut. Just.

"We will do whatever it takes to correct this misunderstanding," he pleaded, bowing his head to the Leader of the Kiyou underworld.

His companion looked at him in surprise a moment, but awkwardly followed suit.

Arms crossed under her ample bosom, a perfectly shaped brow arched.

"Anything?"

A pause.

The woman turned away, preparing to leave.

"A-Anything-!"

With her back to them, they missed the faintest sparkle in her eyes.


End file.
